If your moral/ethical compass points to the idea that anyone who goes to Walmart is going to Hell, which level of Hell further down must I now be headed?

For last night, after a day of driving through East Texas on roads designed for about 800 vehicles a day and getting 38,000, I had a drone deliver the bag you see above filled with the yogurt, blueberries, and granola I am now eating for breakfast this morning via some outfit called “Zipline.”

Somebody needs to go back and tell Dante about this, because new levels of Hell be invented and prepared for my eventual arrival.

Damn this yogurt is good this morning! That’s right, I can cuss all I want now because I’m already destined for that new room in Hell.